


Hers

by Marionhood



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8847490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marionhood/pseuds/Marionhood
Summary: The Rowdy 3. No reason why there can't be five of them.





	

Amanda had spent a lot of her adult life being scared of things. Well…being scared of herself mostly. It’s one thing to know that the world around you is going to betray you…It’s a completely different thing to know your own body will. She’d spent so long worried by what was inside her that she had just excepted that everything was out of her control.

Her body would hurt her, her medication would not be enough and _that van was still outside of her house!_ What the hell was wrong with these people?

She got scared and then…she got angry.

Maybe throwing a brick at them wasn’t the best idea but seriously what could they do to her that her own body hadn’t already put her through? She’d been stabbed, drowned and set on fire all inside her own living room.

So yeah. Fuck those guys.

* * *

 

Admittedly the brick through the window had startled her a little. And yeah, maybe she was a little bit more scared, but that just made her madder.

So she grabbed her drumsticks, took a drag on her cigarette and raised the garage door. The van was still there, watching her. Still growling its engine and shaking with music.

Drumming had always brought about a kind of calm in her, a productive outlet for the rage and helplessness that was always brimming under her skin. So she let herself lose it a bit, smashing out rhythms like there was no tomorrow and the van rocked and hooted.

And nothing bad happened.

She finished her cigarette before she leant back on her stool, smirked and gave the van the finger.

Fuck ‘em.

* * *

 

Hell if she could take on the van full of weirdos she could leave the house. And she didn’t wanna admit it, but the way the van followed on her heels the whole way there….might have helped a little.

She didn’t remember much once the attack started, the pain, the horror, the anger was just too much.

She opened her eyes again to the sight of her groceries and two pairs of combat boots hauling her garage door half closed.

And the last of that fear went away.

* * *

 

Because those guys had helped her. They’d done…. _something_ and now she was better. They’d bought her shopping and taken her home and kept her safe. Amanda didn’t have any friends, beyond her brother she didn’t have anyone who’d take the time to look after her.

But these guys…Yeah, she wasn’t scared on angry anymore.

* * *

 

Her brother was worried enough to move her to his shithole of an apartment, which had a _really_ familiar 3 spray painted on one wall. So she’d stayed there while everyone had wondered off and while the freaky FBI guy was hanging around and when she’d heard that deep growling engine note…she hadn’t even hesitated.

* * *

 

The van smelled weird…kinda like all vans run by anarchists smelled weird. Stale beer and sweat. And there were people in it. Four of them, in fact.

Martin, the serious one. Clearly the brains of the outfit, he drove the van and teased her gently. She got the feeling that the Rowdy 3 belonged to him but didn’t actually include him. He smirked at her from the front seat.

Gripps, who was cuddling a brick like it was a fluffy toy. He had a sweet smile and loud booming laughter.

Vogel, who was maybe the youngest and who had a serious case of the crazy-eyes.

And Cross, who sprayed them all in beer as he offered her a drink.

But the really insane thing was that they actually _liked_ her.

Amanda’s friends had come and gone with well wishes but no one had ever taken her disease at face value and liked her anyway. These boys took her snark and threw it back tenfold, howled with laughter and spurred her on. They may not be Dirk’s friends, but they might just be hers.

So, who cares if they feed off her emotions? They could take all the fear and panic and anger from her that they wanted. She’d give them it all.

* * *

When Martin handed her that bat…she’d had a choice. Taking the bat meant stepping deeper into something insane, something that was going to get her hurt someday. But not taking the bat…stepping away from this crazy life they were offering…that’d be so much worse.

And beating up a cop car never felt so good as it did with the Rowdy 3 cheering her on. 

* * *

 

Cross promised her that she’d never need to worry about her disease again. And fuck…she believes him.

They spent the rest of the evening cruising around and getting to know one another. Honestly, she couldn’t say which one of them she liked best. Yes, Martin was the most serious and Gripps the sweetest. Vogel was manic beyond belief, but cuddly all the same and Cross grinned at her happily from the darkness of the van. You couldn’t take one without the others, she realised and why the hell would she want to.

They told her how they’d found her, following a picture they’d stolen from Todd’s apartment. Cross whispered in her ear that Martin had spent ages just smoking and staring at her picture. Vogel, who’d been tucked into her side, had snorted into his sleeve. Admittedly that was a little creepy, but Amanda had a whole new reference for creepy now she’d dealt with that weird FBI guy. This was the sweet kinda creepy. 

* * *

 

Maybe the military guys had scared her again. Maybe. No one liked having a gun pointed at their head. But what had scared her more was the sheer fury rolling off the Rowdy 3. She’d never actually seen them angry before. Or that unnervingly still.

They made threats, threats she was pretty sure they intended to keep, but they didn’t move any closer. Didn’t do anything that might provoke the guy with the gun.

“Don’t be scared, Drummer Girl,” Martin had promised as they backed away. Stepped back from a fight because the risk was too big. “We’ll see you again.” 

* * *

 

They did see her again. After everything with Todd and Dirk and Farah…She’d missed them so much. They had her back while she had it out with Todd and they got her out of there without a word.

Fuck, had she missed them.

* * *

 

Back in the van again she relaxed into Gripps’ side, smiling faintly as he painted her fingernails a brilliant shade of lime green. Todd’s betrayal hurt but being with the Rowdy 3 lessened it somehow. She might never get better but she sure as hell could be alive with these guys by her side. 

* * *

 

When they’d screeched to a halt behind the SWAT Team there’d been no talk about her staying in the van or keeping safe. So she grabbed a monkey wrench and piled right in.

And.

It.

Was.

Glorious. 

* * *

 

After everything was done, after her brother got brought home and Dirk went to the hospital…after Cross and Gripps had presented her with her own jacket with bright grins but nervous eyes, after she’d made the choice to go with them wherever. She settled into that van, jacket slightly too big but perfect anyway, rested her head on Martin’s shoulder and let them take her anywhere.

They wound up in a field in the middle of nowhere, her and the boys. The Rowdy 3 (but there were actually five). She danced and laughed, free and happy. In that moment feeling the hot dust in the air, the weight Martin’s thoughtful staring, the flecks of beer Cross kept spraying in the air, the sound of Gripps giggling and the brush of Vogel’s clothing as he danced next to her…Amanda couldn’t imagine how she’d ever live without these guys again. 

* * *

 

And then it all broke. Then Martin was on his feet looking tense and serious and the boys were grabbing weapons and Vogel, bubbly, manic Vogel…was grabbing her hand. And he looked scared.

Martin told them to run.

And they did.

She and Vogel sprinted through the long grass, leaving the rest behind them. She could hear Martin’s howl and ran all the harder because they were trying to buy her time. She loved these men and was pretty sure they loved her too because only love puts you between an unknown enemy and another person. Vogel grabbed her hand and kept her on her feet, hauled her through her tears and misery and didn't let her stop running until they'd reached safety. 

She called her brother. Didn’t know what else to do. But she knew one thing. As soon as she stopped being scared, stopped trembling and crying, she’d start being angry. And then she and Vogel, who’d wrapped himself around her, tucked his head into her neck and his arms around her waist, holding her painfully tight...

They’d get the rest of them back because _no one_ was taking her boys from her ever again.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was born out of my love for both the Rowdy 3 and Amanda, who are amazing characters. Also because no one else had written this ship yet and that was a tragedy.


End file.
